


They dared and they revealed

by Crazy_panda_25



Category: Handsome Devil (2016)
Genre: Conoe makes it better, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Forgiveness, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humour, Kissing, M/M, Ned is a bit anxious, Post-Canon, this fandom is severely under written in and its sad, writing competition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29850771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_panda_25/pseuds/Crazy_panda_25
Summary: Ned and Conor talk after Ned reads his essay out to everyone. They’re not perfectly okay but they’re getting there. Risks are taken and new developments are made
Relationships: Conor Masters/Ned Roche
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	They dared and they revealed

**Author's Note:**

> **This might be the worse title I’ve ever come up with but go with it**
> 
> This fandom hasn’t got nearly enough fics so I thought I’d add my splash of paint to the few people still here after so long. Hope you enjoy! Commented and kudos always welcome!

The last line of his story spilled from his mouth into the silence of the room. He looks around in surprise at the enthralled faces that litter the audience. Ned's never been a shy person, far too outspoken for his own good a lot of the time so standing up on a stage and reading his own work, his own story didn't effect him. Not really. Not when he's spent his whole school life being laughed off the stage. But this time, it felt different. No one is laughing nor making fun of him. They're listening and that's even more terrifying. 

"Thank you, Ned. An excellent show of your stunning writing ability," a voice says to his left, almost making him jump as he's shaken from his thoughts, "Is there anything you'd like to say, maybe a moral of your story?"

Ned swallows, glancing back at the audience and catching Conor's eye. The older boy offers him a smile, forehead creasing slightly in concern at Ned's anxiousness. 

"Ermm, just that I wasn't expecting this. Things like this... People like me fade into the background, we don't win writing competitions or anything like that," Ned answers, honestly, shifting on his feet, "but I guess things can change. People can change. Writing or singing or anything really is about revealing to people who you are, if you dare. Or that's what someone once told me." 

Ned grins at Mr Shelly, sharing a smile with the English teacher. Conor's also smiling, glancing between the two of them. Ned can see a few people looking confused at the inside joke, but he ignores it. They'd understand if they thought about it long enough. 

"And also don't do stupid things out of fear of not fitting in or out of anger at someone. It's not worth it. Sometimes you can do something that can't be forgiven even by the nicest of people," Ned shakes his head at himself, avoiding looking at his guest seats, "yourself will be enough for the right people."

"What a lovely speech, Ned," the woman says, Ned can't remember her name for the life of him, "and a massive well done for winning the competition."

The audience starts clapping again as he turns to leave the stage. He almost falters on the steps, catching himself quickly. Get it together Ned, he thinks trying to push down the anxiety and dizziness that has settled in his mind. 

"You see, not speaking in a borrowed voice is much better," Mr Shelly appears next to him.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts, wondering how exactly he managed to get from the hall into the corridor without noticing. Mr Shelly must have noticed his vacant expression because he gently led him by the shoulder to some seats nearby. 

"You okay? You seem..."

"I'm fine, just a bit..." Ned answers gesturing vaguely around, taking a deep breath, "I'm just not use to not being laughed off a stage, is all."

Mr Shelly goes to say something but spots something over Ned's shoulder and closes his mouth again. Ned furrows his brows, glances behind him to see what the man is looking at. He catches sight of Conor and Arthur coming towards them and understands. 

"Brilliant essay, kid," Arthur says, smiling at the two of them, "really...insightful."

"Like you'd know. Don't mind him, he's not a reader," Mr Shelly jokes, grinning at his 'fella' (as he keeps calling him), "We'll leave you two to it for a bit."

Ned nods gratefully at him, watching the two of them walk away, hands brushing as they walk. Ned turns to Conor, admiring the small smile on his friends face. 

"So, what did you think?" Ned asks, feeling a little more at ease talking to people he knows.

"Great, very...us," Conor answers, sitting beside Ned, "you didn't tell me you did the talent show without me."

"Mr Shelly thought it was a good idea and I wanted to do it. Missed the mark by far alone though," Ned shrugs like it's no big deal, as though he didn't just tell everyone that it had hurt him badly, "didn't wanna win anyway."

"You did, we both did and...I'm sorry. I never thought you'd..."

"What, get laughed off the stage?" Ned says, a bit more sharply that he meant to, "sorry, just...I'm sorry. It's not your fault. I'm still a bit shaken."

Conor looks at him in concern, eyes searching his face as he speaks, "Yeah, I saw. Are you alright? You never seem nervous about things like that before now."

Ned nods in agreement, looking at Conor, wondering, not for the first time, why they ever became friends. Wondering what exactly he did to deserve a friend like him, especially after the stunt he pulled in front of everyone. No one ever deserves to be outed, let alone someone as good as Conor.

"I'm not usually but I guess today was...different. I didn't get laughed at for one which is an accomplishment," Ned jokes but he can see it misses it's usual lightheartedness by Conor's expression, "I'm fine, really."

Conor is silent for a moment, clearly trying to work out what he should say. It's what makes him a good friend, he doesn't speak much but when he does you know it's going to be pure sense. Ned guesses he should start doing the same. 

"You're feeling guilty again, stop it," Conor says, suddenly, Ned looks at him questioningly, "don't look at me like I'm wrong. I might not be able to write a prize winning essay like you but I'm not stupid." 

Ned doesn't answer, taking to picking at his finger nails self-consciously. He wonders briefly what his mum would say if she could see him now, probably to stop picking his nails for starters. He can hear her saying it and it tears his emotions between sadness and relief. 

"Your dad didn't come, why is that?" Conor asks as if he can read Ned's mind, there's some times that Ned's sure he can.

Ned shrugs, "Wasn't keen on his complaining about flying all the way back here  again for me so I told him not to bother." 

"I'm glad that you let us come," Conor says, gesturing to Mr Shelly and Arthur not far down the corridor talking, "it really was a good essay."

"Just good? I'm hurt," Ned jokes, biting his bottom lip then looking back to Conor, "it was real, who I am I guess. Kind of hammers home just how much of a dimwit I acted."

Conor huffs out a laugh, "there's that guilt again. Come on, Ned, I told you I'd forgive you ages ago."

"Perhaps but doesn't mean I've forgiven myself. I almost destroyed everything," Ned answers, letting out a slow breath to calm himself down, "wow, I can't get my nerves in check today, shit."

"It's alright, must have been nerve racking being up there. Not just telling a story but telling your story."

"Our story," Ned corrects, smirking when Conor laughs briefly, his face creasing in mirth, "pretty weird. Saying it to everyone. Can't believe it won the prize, Walter might start to like me again."

"You've got a gift, Ned," Conor says, knocking his shoulder gently into Ned's.

"What, like you with rugby? Difference is this is more likely to get me bullied then your skill," Ned answers but there's no bitterness in his voice, just pleasant acceptance.

When Conor doesn't say anything for a beat, Ned glances at his face, catching his searching gaze. He looks that midline between angry and concerned. Other people can't see it much, Conor's hidden emotion that is, but when you go out of your way to fully understand Conor, it's quite easy to see. Ned doesn't understand why anyone wouldn't go out of their way to do so but it's probably the same reason no one had ever got to know Ned himself. No one really cares.

"Are they still bothering you? Weasle and the others?" Conor asks, breaking into Ned's thoughts, "I don't get..."

"It's fine, Conor," Ned interrupts, they've had the same conversation many times before and they both know at this point there's no solving the issue, "getting worked up won't change anything."

"I'm not getting worked up," Conor protests, holding both his hands together in front of him tightly, "I just don't understand what their problem is."

"It's been happening for years, it don't matter," Ned replies, firmly, shaking his head, "but bright side, I'm not friendless anymore."

"Why do you still come to our school? Surely you should have left if it's been like this, shit, it must've been hell," Conor looks even more angry now, it reminds Ned of when the older lad had pushed him over in front of the other rugby team members.

"My dad, well, after mum died, married Natalie, my evil step-mother, then I was just in the way all the time. Hated Natalie, missed mum, sent my dad round the bend more time then not. So I was sent away to school, this was the first to accept me so here I was sent," Ned explains, swallowing down any emotions, glancing at Conor, "wasn't bad enough to be expelled so I had to deal."

"I use to fight anyone that even insinuated I was gay, punched them until they shut up. Was scared whenever someone got close, worried they might find out about me. It was stupid, looking back. I wasn't even bullied. There were rumours, yes, but no one payed any mind until I started being...defensive," Conor says, looking down at his hands while he speaks, "Then there's you, and I can't imagine you did anything wrong to get the stigma you do, who is a good person no matter what you might think yourself and you get picked on again and again for no reason."

"I'm different..."

"And why the fuck shouldn't you be? It's not a reason for them to go around trying to ridicule you for being an individual that would rather...I don't know...write an essay or read a book over playing rugby," Conor says, looking at Ned now, "it's not right."

Ned laughs, shaking his head, "you love rugby."

"Doesn't mean I'll bully someone for not liking it," Conor retorts, sighing, "saying that I wasn't that nice to you when we first met nor after I abandoned you at the talent show."

Ned's shaking his head then, "Conor, no. You don't get to be guilty about that, you were new. You don't go to a new school and befriend the outcast. It's not good for reputation," he grins at the end, humorously.

"If I don't get to be guilty about that you don't about the stage thing. No one even believed you, you know that? No one laughed, no one even said anything," Conor says, gently, "couldn't believe it I guess."

"Nah, chalked it down to one of Ned's fantasies more like," Ned laughs but it doesn't sound as humourless as anyone else would, "I  am gay, you know. Or kind of at least. You asked once. They don't know but, well, if you act in a certain way in this school then that's just your label automatically."

"You're gay?"

”That hard to believe, is it?" Ned answers, shrugging like it meant nothing for him to reveal, "don't worry though, still won't bum you in the night."

At that moment, Conor bursts out laughing shortly followed by Ned, who covers his own mouth to try and stiffen the noise. Mr Sherry glances at them questioningly when the noise inevitably reaches him but they're laughing to hard to explain so the teacher turns away again a smile on his face. 

Ned swallows his laughter elbowing Conor with a smile still on his face.

"Stop, everyone thinks we're weird," Ned says, humour still colouring his voice.

Conor keeps laughing, shaking his head, "Nothing's changed there."

Ned watches his face for a second, before looking down at his hands his smile dimmed for a moment before its replaces again, "Would you have it any different?"

Conor looks at him for a moment too long, "You know, I thought I might but now it's just good to be...myself 

‘We both learnt not to speak in a borrowed voice,” Ned meets his gaze, ignoring the twinge of fear that grips him as he glances down at Conor’s mouth then back up again, “it’s not his me that...”

Then Conor is kissing him, their mouth clumsy but sure as they move against one another. 

When they pull back conscious of where they are, Conor’s lips quirk up at the side in a smirk. 

“You really don’t know when to shut up.”

“Fuck off,” Ned says, letting out a surprised laugh, before adding as an clumsy afterthought, “I’ll keep talking if that’s how you shut me up.”

“Smooth.”

“I know, gotta way with words, me.”

“Shut up.” 


End file.
